


Raene's Fall

by Turist



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Modification, Corruption, Demons, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Femsub, Fetish, Group Sex, Humiliation, Maledom/Femsub, Multi, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Transformation, Writing on the Body
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27976245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turist/pseuds/Turist
Summary: Raene, a night elf warrior, aims to cleanse the moonwell at the ruins of Constellas. Xavathras, the Jadefire satyr, takes exception to her quest.Explicit PWP with initial dub-conOther characters:Arcanist Delaris - what's her deal?Eridan Bluewind - she seems alright. Will she stay that way?Blood elf paladin (F) - a mysterious strangerModren, dwarf smith and enchanter - a simple dwarf, with simple needs (minor role only)Expect character corruption and subversion, some BDSM content, transformation/body modification
Relationships: Female Blood Elf | Elves/Female Night Elf | Elves (Warcraft), Female Night Elf | Elves/Female Night Elf | Elves (Warcraft), Paladin(s)/Warrior(s) (Warcraft)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

The overgrown ruins of Constellas had not been difficult to find.

Raene silently looked over the shattered columns and pedestals, broken remnants of a beautiful city. Plant life had long ago reclaimed the rubble, and the trees crowded in around her, but the closeness of nature brought little comfort here.

The tree trunks had grown twisted and gnarled, with dark and flaky bark. The corruption of the soil was strong here, befouling even the oldest of the plants. The very air felt thick and tainted. Raene suppressed a surge of anger. Just one more vile transgression that the demons and their fell servants would pay for.  
  
The lithe night elf had wanted to scout the ruins before making her move. Raene would have approached closer, but unlike most of her kin she never had much talent for sneaking. She certainly was not dressed for stealth. She wore her plate and chain, scored here and there by marks of blade and claw, along with her customary heavy leather trousers and travel boots. Her long, pale hair was gathered in a thick single braid that rand down her back.  
  
Still, from her distant perch, she could see dark, horned figures moving within the rubble. Raene wrinkled her delicate nose. _Satyrs. The Jadefire are here._ It was just as Arcanist Delaris had told her. The corrupted moonwell and its new master could not be far.  
  
Raene drew her long two-handed blade. She had reclaimed the sword from the necromancers of Scholomance only a week past, with the aid of her guild. The weapon glittered even in the dim light that made it past the twisted tree boughs above her.  
  
The night elf strode into the ruins. The claw talisman that Delaris had given her clinked gently against the breastplate of her armor.  
  
***  
The narrow path before her was ablaze with fell fire. Raene stepped back and reached for the Arcanist’s token.  
  
She dimly sensed a pulse of arcane energy, and the flames died away with hardly a whisper. Raene grinned and stepped forward.  
  
No more horned shapes were visible in the ruins behind her.  
  
***  
She saw the moonwell first – it was difficult to miss the huge, low ring of stone. Even from afar Raene glimpsed the greenish sludge that writhed within the befouled well. Dark trees crowded in close to the spring, their warped branches reaching down to the slimy surface of the liquid, its greenish light glinting on their bark.  
  
Raene had thought herself prepared for the foul sight, but the _wrongness_ of it still stunned her.  
  
At the base of the well, a large seat of wood and bone had been set up, decorated with fetishes and fell sigils. Doubtless meant to frighten and impress, the intent was undercut by the ramshackle construction.  
  
A tall satyr lounged on the rickety throne. The creature’s skin was sickly and greenish, clashing with the dark fur that ran up his forearms and hooved legs. Twin curved horns sprouted from his forehead, just like his brethren that Raene had faced in the camp. His only adornment was a rough loincloth, and a necklace of teeth and claws that rested on his wide chest.

At her approach, the demon turned his head toward the night elf, his eyes blazing with fell green energy, so bright as to obscure his pupils.  
  
Raene straightened and pointed her glittering sword toward the creature.  
  
“Xavathras,” she growled, “your evil ends here. So say, I, Raene Shae-”  
  
“Polite of you to introduce yourself,” the demon interrupted, his rich voice breaking over her, “before you skewer me.”  
  
Raene narrowed her silver eyes, a flash of annoyance creasing her full lips. She’d heard that superior, refined tone before, among the Shen’dralar she’d encountered, and from Arcanist Delaris herself. _Highborne scum._  
  
Xavathras rose from his seat, sparks of dark arcane fire playing over his furred forearms. Closer now, she could see that his pale flesh was struck through with a web of darker veins, pulsing with corruption.  
  
“Come then,” he snarled.  
  
The night elf rushed forward.  
  
***  
Raene swayed, then fell to one knee with a grunt. Tendrils of the satyr’s final spell crawled over her armor, sapping her strength. Her blade fell from limp fingers, striking the mossy ground without a sound.  
  
“Curse you,” she growled, looking up at the demon.  
  
Xavathras approached her slowly. The cuts from her blows were already sealing themselves, tendrils of fell green energy knitting the flesh closed before her eyes. The demon’s shadow loomed over her, and he leaned down, hand outstretched.  
  
Raene closed her eyes and whispered a brief prayer to Elune.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Raene waited a few more moments, uncertain and fearful, her heart hammering in her chest. Finally, she opened her eyes.  
  
The satyr was walking away from her, back toward the moonwell. Overriding her confusion, Raene turned her eyes downward, searching for her weapon.  
It was gone.  
  
“My sword!” she gasped, eyes widening with realization.  
  
At the sound of her voice, Xavathras paused and turned back. Her blade was in his hands, and he turned it over a few times, admiring it for her benefit.  
  
“This?” he asked mockingly, “It belongs to me now. Isn’t that how it works – you kill my kind and take our treasures? Why, I’m being merciful by comparison.” He waved his hand, his tone dismissive. “You may run now, night elf, I care not. I’m eager to see what the moonwell will make of your relic here.”  
  
“No!” Raene’s voice rose higher in desperation, and she tried to get to her feet, but they still would not hold her weight, “You can’t!”  
  
Xavathras laughed, the nasty sound grating at Raene’s ears.  
  
“I can,” he paused, smirking at her, then shrugged, “unless you are willing to offer something else in trade?”  
  
Raene hesitated uncertainly. “What…what do you mean?”  
  
The satyr’s demonic face twisted up in a wolfish leer. Reaching down, he casually tugged aside his loincloth.  
  
The night elf warrior blinked. “You can’t be serious,” she said blankly, too surprised to be outraged.  
  
“I hold something you want,” Xavathras shrugged, “and I am proposing a trade for something that I want. Your prized blade for a few minutes of work with your hands and lips. The choice is yours. A simple one, I should think”  
  
Raene opened her mouth to curse him, then wavered.  
  
It was an exceptionally good sword. Raene still remembered how Isette’s eyes had shined with barely hidden jealousy when the guild awarded the blade to her. The blade had never failed her – even in this battle, if she had just been faster…  
  
“How can I trust your bargain?” she asked in a low tone.  
  
Xavathras’ smile was wide and hideous.  
  
“You doubt the word of one of the Highborne caste? Was my mercy not enough to earn your trust, young kaldorei? Very well then.”  
  
The satyr drew back his furred arm, then flung the glimmering blade forward. It sailed high over Raene’s head. She spun her head to track its progress with wide eyes. The sword struck the ground near the opening of the narrow path she had taken to reach the moonwell from the ruins. The weight of it sank most of the long blade into the soft soil without a whisper.  
  
“You may claim your weapon again on your way out. Once you’ve paid the price for your unprovoked attack on me and mine. So many innocent satyr lives you’ve cut short.”  
  
Raene ignored the barb and looked at the blade, judging the distance. Too far to make a run for it, and she suspected that the satyr’s mercy would come to a swift end if she were to try. Indeed, when she turned around, tendrils of arcane power were already gathered in one of his hands. Raene recognized the spell.  
  
“Threatening a helpless captive?” she snarled.  
  
Xavathras’ laughed again. “I am a demon. I’ve done far worse to far better. But this is no threat, kaldorei – just insurance. You are free to go as you please. Just leave the blade.”  
Raena turned back to the satyr. Without looking up, she raised her arms, and waved him forward.  
  
To her surprise, he did not gloat.  
  
Once he was close, Raene glanced up then quickly diverted her eyes from the lewd sight. He was growing hard already, his swelling cock jutting lewdly from between his furred thighs. Like the rest of the satyr’s skin, his member was a sickly, pale green, webbed with inky strands of demonic corruption. _The very thought of it…_  
  
She reached out and wrapped her strong hands around his girth, drawing an approving grunt from the Satyr. She stroked him awkwardly, feeling the dark veins pulsing under her callused, lavender-skinned fingers. He stiffened quickly, growing until it was difficult for her to grasp the thickness. Precum oozed from the tip, slickening her grip.

Raene swallowed nervously.  
  
The satyr above her grunted impatiently, his lust rising.  
  
“I know, I know,” the night elf muttered.  
  
Raene closed her eyes, and leaned forward, using her hands to guide the demon’s tool to her plum-colored lips. Her mouth parted, allowing it within. Her tongue brushed against the underside, and the flavor of him filled her senses. It was strong, musky, and bitter, but did not disgust her, reminding her of…

Raene clamped down hard on the stray thought and cast it aside.  
  
The demon was better endowed than most of her previous partners, but the size of him was not the issue. The act of servicing her people’s enemy, a traitor to everything the kaldorei stood and fought for… Raena shuddered with the sheer shame of it, her cheeks darkening.  
  
She had no desire to pleasure the satyr, but neither did she want to draw this out longer than necessary. Steeling herself, Raene raised herself up slightly and began bobbing her mouth over the demon’s cockhead, her tongue sliding along the underside passively. Her hands worked along his shaft, stiff and ungainly, as she overrode her hesitation moment by moment. _He’ll pay for this._  
  
Luckily for Raene, Xavathras did not last long.  
  
His sudden peak caught her by surprise. She sensed a brief shudder, then a sudden rush of hot, bitter seed burst inside her mouth. Above her, Xavathras roared in release. The demon’s hooves stamped against the ground.  
  
The night elf gagged as the slimy cum forced itself down her throat. She swallowed involuntarily, then groaned in protest and pushed herself back, her hands releasing the demon’s twitching cock. It slipped from her lips, and his last spurts of his dark seed struck her lavender cheek.  
  
Raene flinched, then turned aside and spat, trying to clear her mouth of the demon’s vile seed. Above her, the satyr chuckled. Raene looked up, her silver eyes blazing.  
  
“You have fulfilled the bargain,” Xavathras said, and his mouth split into another fanged smile, “to my satisfaction. You have my leave to go, kaldorei. I have more important matters to attend to.”  
  
He turned and strode away back to the corrupted moonwell without a backwards glance.  
  
Raene rose, her legs still wobbly, and walked toward her sword with all the dignity she could muster. The blade came free of the tainted soil easily, unblemished and unbent. Raene drew a small measure of reassurance from its resilience.  
  
She wiped her cheek, spat again, the turned back to the moonwell. Xavathras was already seated at his rickety throne, though the sight no longer made her want to laugh. It just made her angry.  
  
Raene considered a hundred curses to hurl at the satyr, but each felt powerless and vain. With a snarl, she turned and strode away from the moonwell.  
  
***  
“That’s a hard break,” Eridan’s already serious face grew grim as she listed to Raene’s tale, though the warrior had elected to omit the lurid details of the end of her expedition.  
  
Eridan looked up at Raene’s face. Though at close to seven feet, Raene herself was of only average height, the crown of Eridan’s blue-haired head barely reached her nose. “Are you sure you’re alright?”  
  
“I feel fine,” Raene nodded, and that was true enough. Apart from a few scrapes and a subtle, lingering ache in her chest that she attributed to the satyr’s spells, she had already recovered by the time she made it back to the Emerald Circle outpost. “I’ll get back there to finish the job soon enough.”  
  
Eridan nodded, and reaching into her pack she pulled out a small coin purse that she passed over to Raene.  
  
“You cleared out some of the Jadefire at least, so that’s yours – and well earned it was,” the night elf turned, shaking out her long hair as she looked around, “you should find Delaris too,” her pale eyes narrowed, “that Highborne witch is around here somewhere.”  
  
***  
Arcanist Delaris was easy to find. The tall, white-haired mage was leafing through an ancient tome spread out on top of her table, graceful even as she bent down low to squint at some arcane rune scribbled in the margins.  
  
Raene had to greet her twice to get her attention.  
  
“Ah,” the arcanist straightened up and closed her eyes briefly as if recalling something, “Raene, wasn’t it? And what of the moonwell and Xavathras? Did you use the talisman I gave you?”  
  
“I…I couldn’t beat him,” under the piercing gaze of the arcanist, Raene felt the shame of the memory stirring up inside her once more, “I slew many of the Jadefir-”  
  
Delaris effortlessly interrupted her with an elegant wave. “Such common creatures do not concern me. They are for Eridan to deal with, as is her lot.”  
  
Raene snapped her lips shut, turned on her heel and strode away, seething.  
  
***  
The path to the moonwell lay open before her, the last of the fell flames dying in embers at her feet. Raene hefted her blade and started forward when an unexpected flutter of movement from further up the path halted her in her tracks.  
  
An unfamiliar armored figure was rounding the curve ahead, moving away from the moonwell. Raene could see that the stranger staggered slightly, as if drunk or wounded. Her first instinct was to rush forward to help, but something about the stance of the figure held her back.  
  
The stranger drew closer, and Raene drew in a sharp breath of recognition.  
  
“Sin’dorei,” she hissed, her hand tightening on the hilt of her weapon.  
  
Her elven cousin stiffened at the sound of her voice and looked up. The blood elf was a woman, with delicate, youthful features. Her skin was darker than most of her kind that Raene had seen, an almost caramel color, though her hair and her long eyebrows were light, and tinged with burnt gold. Raene judged that the woman stood a little under six feet tall, but it was difficult to tell given her attire.  
  
The woman wore heavy armor, more intricately decorated than Raene’s own utilitarian plate. A small shield was strapped to her back, and a single long-sword dangled from its sheath at the blood elf’s hip.  
  
The symbols on the armor were familiar to Raene – but it was the eyes that gave the elf away. Not green, like most of her cursed kin, but a softly glowing gold.  
  
 _A paladin. A Horde paladin. Just great._  
  
Raene kept her position, watching the paladin closely. The blood elf stared back with an unreadable expression. The elf’s fingers grasped the hilt of her sword, but the stranger did not draw her blade.  
  
Raene’s breath caught in her throat when she noticed the clawed talisman that lay against the elf’s dark breastplate.  
  
With new eyes, she looked back at the blood elf’s face once more and picked out the tell-tale signs. Gold hair in disarray. A shameful flush on her skin. A dark smear on her cheek.  
  
Raene hesitated then straightened from her crouch, lowering her sword. She pointed at the blood elf, then dabbed at her own cheek.  
  
The woman flinched, reaching up hastily to wipe away the dark stain. She stared at her fingers for a moment, then looked back at Raene. Without a word, she rushed forward, brushing past the night elf, and disappearing into the ruins.  
  
***  
“I have returned, Xavathras.”  
  
The tall satyr turned away from the corrupted moonwell at the sound of her words.  
  
“Oh, its you,” his voice was non-committal, “Riva? Rana?”  
  
“It’s Raene, you filth,” she spat, “as you should well remember.”  
  
“I had been rather hoping that slight little blonde elf was coming back,” he rolled on smoothly, ignoring her fire. “Do you know, I’ve always wondered why our wayward kin shrank so-”  
  
“Enough of this blather, demon! I will be more than enough for you,” the night elf spat, and lunged forward, blade held high.  
  
***  
Raene gagged lightly as the satyr’s thick cock slid further into her mouth. His hand came to rest on her hair, but she reached up and angrily swatted it away. It did not return.  
  
His length brushed against the back of the throat, and she coughed again, then pulled back, allowing the drool-covered member to slip from between her plum-colored lips.  
  
“Is that all?” came Xavathras’ voice from above her.  
  
Raene nodded silently, not looking up.  
  
She knelt before the satyr in the moonwell clearing. Her sword lay on the ground a few dozen steps behind her, where it had fallen after Xavathras’ spell tugged it from her hand. Its blade glowed with a golden radiance in the rays of the setting sun, which just peeked above the crowns of the dark trees.  
  
“Well if that’s the best that you can do…go ahead, I suppose.”  
  
The disappointment in his voice was feigned, Raene was sure, but the gall of the cursed creature, making it sound as if he was doing her a favor!  
  
This time, she did look up, her silver eyes glaring with fury at his twisted demonic face.  
  
“I _will_ beat you, you know. Before your time here is ended, you will lie at my feet, defeated,” she said, calmly as she could manage. _I’ll make certain of it._  
  
Xavathras looked to consider her words silently for a moment, then shrugged.  
  
“Then I’d be a fool not to enjoy the brief time I have left, kaldorei. Now, your mouth, again.”  
  
Raene caged her anger and leaned forward, letting her lips slide over his length once more. It was getting easier to do so with every bob of her head, she reflected darkly. The taste and smell of him filled her, as musky and bitter as before, but also darkly alluring. Her hands slid along his shaft, tentative.  
  
The shame of it, of pleasuring the hated enemy of her people, still burned within her. How would she look to an onlooker, kneeling in the grass and willingly servicing this horned demon?  
  
An image of Isette sneering down at her floated through her mind. _She’d like that,_ Raene thought, _she’d curse me for a whore, shame me from the guild…_ Her thoughts ran dark, but something inside her twisted at the humiliating vision. She whined around the satyr’s cock.  
  
"You'll make a proper suck slut yet," Xavathras grunted from above. Raene closed her eyes, cheeks burning.  
  
And now the fantasy shifted. Instead of Isette jeering at her from above, the human warrior was kneeling between a pair of Jadefire satyrs, servicing them each in turn eagerly. One of the demons laughed, and reached down to pluck up the woman as easily as a feather, pulling her thighs around his thick waist as his cock pressed against her…  
  
Raene wasn’t sure which vision she preferred.  
  
 _Preferred?! Oh gods!_  
  
The night elf’s silver eyes flew open in horrified realization. She was growing aroused, the familiar eager twitch of her clit, the slick sensation of her pussy…  
  
She tried to tamp it down, deny it, but the very humiliation of recognizing the lust it only magnified it.  
  
She whined again, the sound muffled and desperate sounding even to her ears.  
  
 _Oh gods, let this end!_  
  
Xavathras unknowingly obliged her plea. She felt him shudder under her touch and knew that his peak was coming.  
  
She moved to pull back, but a sudden flash of deviant desire froze her.  
  
 _If I don’t move, he’ll fill my throat, I’ll have to swallow, the filthy taste of it, the hot…_  
  
Raene lurched back desperately, dragging her lips off the demon’s shaft, but his thick dark seed was already filling her mouth.  
  
The night elf sagged back on her knees, swallowing and coughing.  
  
Xavathras convulsed in pleasure before her, his cum spurting out to taint her skin once more, the dark strands of seed lewdly stretching across her lavender cheeks. His orgasm waned, and the last of it slid down her chest plate.  
  
Before he could recover and speak more vile things in that refined voice of his, Raene rose and hurried away.  
  
***  
“Where is Eridan?” her question was rough, but Raene was in no mood for pleasantries.  
  
Arcanist Delaris looked up from her work, her expression neutral.  
  
“Raene,” her voice was soft, “we found some interesting relics in the ruins. Eridan is assisting me in testing them, as they are well suited for her. Is there something I can do for you?”  
  
“No, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with _common_ concerns,” Raene growled, and turned to go.  
  
“Hold a moment, Raene. What is that?”  
  
The question more than the request halted Raene footsteps. She turned back to the arcanist in confusion.  
  
The woman was approaching her with careful, graceful steps, her eyes fixed below the line of Raene chin.  
  
“What is that on my talisman?” Delaris repeated her question.  
  
One slender, light blue finger reached out and brushed against Raene’s armor. It came away with its tip stained inky black.  
  
Raene blanched.  
  
“Nothing! I fell – the satyr’s poison – yes! Poison!” she stammered breathlessly, then turned and fled.  
  
The arcanist watched her go in silence.  
  
***  
“Are you sure, lass?” Modren looked up at her with uncertainty, turning the blade over in his hands.  
  
Raene stifled a sigh. The dwarf was the guild’s favored - and most affordable - smith and enchanter, but sometimes he asked too many questions.  
  
She had left her armor behind – it had started to chafe her uncomfortably. She rubbed at her chest absentmindedly, the ache there still lingering.  
  
Raene caught the way Modren’s eyes followed her hand.  
  
Still, there was one surefire way to forestall his questions and set his gaze to more realistic pursuits.  
  
Raene reached into her pack and pulled out a bulging sack of coins, and Modren’s eyes quickly found a new target.


	2. Chapter 2

Eridan and Delaris were arguing. Raene kept her distance and could not hear the words, but the confrontation was plain to see.  
  
The arcanist stood with her hands clasped over the top of her richly ornamented robes. Her sculpted face was impassive, and she spoke only briefly.  
  
Eridan stared up at her, gesticulating and pointing with an accusing finger. At last, the blue-haired druid spun and stalked away, her face dark.  
  
Delaris watched her leave then turned and swayed back to her work. Raene caught a glimpse of a perfect, delicate thigh peeking through the high slit of her robe, then the arcanist was out of sight.  
  
***  
Raene caught up to Eridan on the outskirts of the camp. The druid’s head was bowed, and she was softly chanting some spell that Raene did not recognize.  
  
The night elf startled at her call, falling silent, then turned to face the warrior. Beneath her long blue eyebrows Eridan’s face was flushed, and she was breathing hard.  
  
“Raene?” she swallowed, “I...”  
  
“What was that about?” Raene looked at her with concern.  
  
“Nothing, just,” the druid controlled her breathing, struggling for words, “That Highborne, she’s so – so – ugh!” The night elf gave up with a frustrated grunt.  
  
Raene nodded sympathetically. “Was it the relics you found?” she asked, “Delaris said you were helping her with something.”  
  
Eridan flinched and her blush deepened, “No! I mean, yes,” her eyes slid away as she stammered on, “I..I just…I..nnh-need to be alone for a while, to c-cool off,” she forced a quick smile up at Raene, “thank you, for checking up on me.”  
  
She started away then paused, and half-turned back to Raene.  
  
“Delaris, she – she asked me to prepare a tent in case you needed a place to rest. It’s at the south edge of the camp.”  
  
With a final nod, the druid hurried off, leaving the puzzled warrior alone.  
  
***  
The last few steps around the bend in the path leading to the moonwell were all to familiar to Raene. She took them quickly, her sword already in her hand. The blade was aflame with a shining blue radiance, the enchantment of Modren mingling with the weapon’s own magics.  
  
The few satyrs that had dared return to the ruins behind her fled at the sight of the weapon, but the real test lay ahead.  
  
The night elf stepped into the clearing, the shadows of the gnarled trees fleeing from her feet.  
  
“Your doom is here, Xav – oh!” her triumphant declaration trailed off.  
  
In hindsight, the absence of the customary wall of flames in the path should have given her pause.  
  
Xavathras was not alone.  
  
The blood elf was here.  
  
The blonde paladin was kneeling on all fours on the ground a few feet away from the edge of the moonwell. Her shield lay in the grass by her side. Raene could see no sign of the woman’s weapon but did not spend much time looking for it.  
  
The blood elf still wore her breastplate, though other parts of her armor had been haphazardly stripped off and scattered on the ground around her. Raene saw glimpses of her tawny arms and shoulders, taught and muscled.  
  
Below the waist, she wore nothing at all.  
  
Xavathras knelt in the grass behind her, his hips rhythmically slamming into her with powerful thrusts. He fucked her at a leisurely pace, drawing himself almost all the way out of her snatch before sliding back in in one smooth stroke.  
  
Raene noticed the way his cock glistened wetly in the evening light.  
  
Xavathras was far from the largest satyr Raene had seen, but his bulk still dwarfed the blood elf, looming over her. His furred thighs were spread wide apart as he lowered his hips to compensate for their difference in size. The demon’s hooves slid back and forth slightly, finding little purchase on the soft ground. His crude necklace of teeth clacked gently against his greenish chest.  
  
The blood elf’s slim body shook with each thrust, her shapely hips surging forward then sliding back as the satyr withdrew, as if trying to keep him within her. The claw trinket, Delaris’ gift, swayed beneath her armored chest, brushing against the dirt.  
  
One of Xavathras’ huge hands was wrapped around her hips, his ghastly, pale skin clashing garishly with his mate’s caramel flesh.  
  
His other hand was entwined in her golden ponytail, holding it firmly as he continued to rut into her.  
  
The paladin’s eyes were shut, but Raene could see her mouth working soundlessly, gasping with each pump of the satyr’s hips.  
  
Unbidden, Raene’s tongue flicked out to wet her lips. _He’s taking her hard and if he’s big by my measure, in her small frame...oh fuck, s_ he shuddered, feeling herself twinge in sympathy for the blood elf. _He must be stretching her so much - she’d be so full that…_  
  
Raene stifled that thought but did not look away.  
  
The rutting couple still did not notice her presence, consumed by their lust each in their own way.  
  
An absurd awkwardness washed over the night elf – she felt as an unwanted intruder on a private moment.  
  
_Madness! He’s a foul monster, and she’s – she’s –_  
  
The thought gave Raene pause. What was ‘she’? Blood elf? Horde? Did that matter at a time like this?  
  
Her emotions surged in her - anger, embarrassment, fear – all tinged with an unwanted, shameful arousal that she could no longer ignore.  
  
Raene’s sword point shook, then fell. Attacking now felt…wrong. As if she would be cheating.  
  
_Madness!_  
  
The night elf backed away, then cast her eyes about.  
  
_There!_  
  
A hollow in the rocks and rubble, concealed by warped tree roots and browned undergrowth. Even her meager woodland stealth skills would suffice.  
  
_I won’t look,_ Raene thought as she slipped between the roots, sheathing her sword, _I won’t look. I’ll just wait…wait my turn._  
  
She shuddered at the thought, as the blood elf’s high-pitched, breathy cries broke in the clearing behind her. A moment later, Xavathras’ familiar roar joined in.  
  
***  
The enchantments on the blade had been worth the price, Raene reflected as she staggered along the path away from the moonwell.  
  
Her fingers swiped at the wetness on her cheek, coming away slick and dark. This time, Xavathras had pulled out after his first spurt went down her clenching throat. He painted her cheeks and moaning lips with strand after strand of his green and black seed. She had cleaned herself up as best she could – clearly it had not been enough.  
  
Raene hesitated briefly, then brought her finger to her lips.  
  
_Yes, Modren had done good work,_ Raene reflected as she walked on, scraping up the last traces of the satyr’s cum from her lilac skin, cleaning her fingers with her tongue.  
  
She had come closer than before to finishing off that accursed satyr than before. The blade had _hurt_ him, she was certain of that. Perhaps his painting of her face was his pitiful attempt at revenge? Raene chuckled darkly. _The arrogant fool!_  
  
If only she hadn’t been so…distracted by that…the _lurid_ scene with that damned blood elf!  
  
_I would have had him_ , Raene told herself.  
  
Absorbed by her thoughts, Raene did not see the figure by the side of the path ahead of her until it stepped forward to bar her way.  
  
She looked up startled, finger frozen half-way to her open lips. Her heart sank.  
  
The blood elf stood in front of her, her golden eyes blazing brightly in the dusky light. The woman had re-assembled her armor, and her sword was back at her side. Her hand ceaselessly clenched and loosed on the hilt.  
  
Raene stared at her, paralyzed. _An ambush? I’m in no shape for a fight, not after –_  
  
The sin’dorei released her sword hilt and thrust an accusing finger toward the night elf.  
  
“You saw me,” the paladin’s voice was lower in pitch than Raene would have guessed, with a pleasant musical lilt. The Thalassian accent was heavy, but it did nothing to mask the emotion in her voice.  
  
Raene swallowed, recovering from the surprise. _At least she’s not charging at you, that’s a good sign._  
  
“Yes,” she nodded, straightening up slightly. She saw no way to dodge the truth – and what good would it do her here?  
  
The golden eyes blinked, as if surprised by her straightforward answer. Raene saw the opportunity to seize the initiative. _Parry and riposte._  
  
“And,” she spoke quickly, “if you stuck around to waylay me here, you must have seen me too, back there,” Raene waved toward the moonwell.  
  
The blonde elf’s bow-shaped lips drew together tightly, and a soft blush darkened her caramel cheeks.  
  
“No,” she shook her head, looking away from Raene, “no, I do not watch! I do not hide in bushes and…and…,” her gold eyes flickered back to the night elf’s face briefly, “and spy like some base rogue!”  
  
Before Raene could reply, the paladin whirled around on her again, her finger extended once more, though this time she pointed beyond the night elf.  
  
“That,” her voice shook slightly, “that _sahe-_ that satyr is mine to slay! I’ve earned the right of revenge, kal’dorei!”  
  
She turned and stormed off back into the ruins.  
  
“Wait,” Raene called out, her mind crowding with a rush of questions. _What is your name? What are you doing here? How did he -?_  
  
It was too late – the blood elf was gone.  
  
***  
“- ady to accept your place?”  
  
Raene froze a few feet away from the entrance of the tent, staring ahead at the narrow streak of lilac light pouring from within, pushing back at the gloom around the Emerald Circle camp. Behind her, the rest of the small outpost lay in darkness.  
  
She recognized the Delaris’ voice at once. Not surprising, considering she was outside the arcanist’s abode.  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
Then a second voice, so low and quiet as to be barely audible came from within.  
  
“Yes,” it whispered, and fell silent.  
  
Raene’s brows rose. _Eridan?!_  
  
“Liar,” Delaris’ tone was firm and even, “a weak, base-born liar. You tried to call on your woodland magic. The stench of it is all over you.”  
  
There were footsteps, slow and measured.  
  
“It failed,” Delaris spoke again, closer now, “as it always will, before the true power that it cannot resist.”  
  
Another pause, longer this time.  
  
“Please…I…I can’t stand it, I need…” Eridan’s voice shook plaintively.  
  
“Silence,” the word carried the certainty of a command. The druid’s words died away.  
  
“At least you admit your weakness. That is something, from one such as you,” the arcanist’s tone remained cold, “I have made clear the task you need to fulfill. Two. Just two, for now.”

Eridan made no reply that Raene could hear.  
  
More footsteps, receding, then muffled sound Raene could not pick out, followed by brief sizzle of arcane energy.  
  
The footsteps came back once more.  
  
“I will ask you this just once,” Delaris again, each word clear and clipped, “do you want me to add the other one?”  
  
The silence in the tent stretched out. Raene licked her dry lips, her heart pounding in her ears.  
  
“Yes,” Eridan’s voice was little more than a sigh, “yes.”  
  
“Good girl,” the arcanist voice warmed by an imperceptible degree, “now, open your mouth.”  
  
A shuddering, wanting moan came from within, quickly cut short with a wet gasp.  
  
Raene turned and fled.  
  
***  
Raene slid her full lips along the satyr’s drool-drenched shaft, her tongue writhing against the head of the cock. She gathered the precum drooling from the tip, pulled back lightly and swallowed, then dove forward again. The demon’s clawed hand rested in her white hair, guiding her lightly as she worked for his pleasure.  
  
Xavathras was seated on his wooden throne in a careless sprawl. His pale, corruption-striken flesh was still scored in places by the blows she had dealt him.  
  
Raene knelt before him, her head bobbing rapidly. Her sword lay in the grass a few feet away, its enchantment glowing faintly. The green glow given off by the nearby corrupted moonwell played along the silver blade.  
  
Raene ignored the ache in her jaw. She also ignored the more pleasant ache between her thighs.  
  
Instead, the night elf surreptitiously reached down and loosed another clasp of her breastplate. The fit of it had grown tight of late, and she was grateful for the relief.  
  
It had restricted her breathing as she danced around the satyr, blade flashing out angrily. Soon, she had started panting for air, her chest and breasts aching more than ever.  
  
_He wore me out,_ Raene thought, gulping down another slick swallow, _nothing more._  
  
She lifted her silver eyes up to Xavathras’ face.  
  
The demon did not meet her gaze. He was looking off into the distance, his free hand toying distractedly with his necklace even as he continued to guide Raene’s head over his cock.  
  
The night elf’s temper flared, the heat rising to her cheeks. _As if the humiliation of this was not enough, he has the gall…_  
  
She let out an indignant groan and sped up her efforts. Bring up her hand, she slid them along the spit-slick shaft, moving in concert with her lush lips. She stared up at him, silver eyes narrowed furiously.  
  
Xavathras gave out stifled rumble, and his hand tightened on her hair, but he did not so much as glance down.  
  
With a throaty mewl, Raene pulled herself back. The satyr’s hard cock slid out of her mouth with a slick pop, bobbing lewdly in front of her face. Lines of thick drool and spit stretched from the shaft to her lips, stretching then breaking to smear against her chin and neck. She ignored them, settling back on her heels, and wrenching her head out of his loose grasp.  
  
“Am I boring you down here, satyr?” she growled up at him, her beautiful face set in a scowl.  
  
The demon startled, and finally looked down.  
  
“I…no, no, it’s just,” he glanced away again, and his fanged mouth split in a grin. “Ah…finally.”  
  
Raene knew what it was before she turned to follow his gaze. _Who_ it was.  
  
The blonde sin’dorei stood at the mouth of the path leading to the clearing. Her armor gleamed darkly in the shadowed light. Her shield was at her left hand, the red symbol of the Blood Knights prominently emblazoned on its face. The paladin’s long-sword was drawn, but she kept her place for the moment.  
  
Her golden eyes found Raene’s face, and one of her fine brows twitched upward. The smirk was brief and knowing.  
  
Raene flushed and turned away.  
  
“You can go.”  
  
The night elf gaped upward in disbelief.  
  
Xavathras was looking down at her, his place face impassive.  
  
“I’m sure you have no wish to continue with an audience, and I…” Xavathras’ cultured voice ran to silence, as Raene sprang to her feet, face dark with fury.  
  
She stood before the satyr, fuming, blood hammering in her ears. Then, the night elf’s fingers flew to the waistband of her heavy leather trousers, tugging furiously at the lacings.  
Raene felt a stab of vicious satisfaction at the look of shock on the satyr’s bestial face.  
  
“Raene, what…?”  
  
_Now he remembers my name!_  
  
“Shut up!” she hissed at him.  
  
She shoved her pants down to her knees in one rash motion, then tugged at her boots, grunting of frustration. When at last they came free, she tossed them aside heedlessly.  
In a few moments she stood naked from the waist down, save for her brief underclothes.  
  
Xavathras’ shock gave way to a hungry grin. His green eyes flared.  
  
“Ahh, I see. Well, if you simply must…”  
  
He went on, but Raene paid him no mind. She fingered the straps of her armor, considering for a moment, then tugged at the last few clasps.  
  
Her chest plate fell to ground at her feet, and she drew a shuddering breath of relief. The padded under layer and shirt followed, and soon she was bare up top as well, except for her over-straining bra.  
  
She reached behind her and caught the way Xavathras’ leering eyes flicked down to her lilac chest, staring brazenly.  
  
A flick of her fingers loosened the garment, and she shook it loose from her shoulders, letting it fall. Her breasts, normally lean and scarcely large enough to fill her hand, swelled high and proud on her chest.  
  
Though still modest, Raene could feel the increase in weight. They had been so swollen and tender these past few days. A quick glance down told her that she had filled out more than she had thought. Her breasts had an unfamiliar roundness to them now, a softness. Her upturned dark nipples, small and delicate, hardened quickly.  
  
Xavathras’ gaze roved over her exposed lilac skin lecherously, drinking in the sight of her nudity.  
  
Raene did not delay, for fear of loosing the nerve or madness that had carried her thus far.  
  
Swaying forward, she gripped the arms of the demon’s throne and pulled herself up, straddling his thighs. His cock smacked wetly against her slim belly, leaving shining wet streaks behind.

  
Raene gulped nervously, then reached down and wrapped her hands around the demon’s length, stroking it a few times, as if reacquainting herself with the girth of it.  
  
Her other hand went down to her panties, tugging them aside. The gusset was already soaked through. She moaned lightly and lifted her hips higher.  
  
The satyr’s hands moved at last, rising to grasp the cheeks of her firm, heart-shaped ass. Raene ignored them, looking down past the swell of her bust.  
  
She guided the head of the demon’s cock to her pussy, the slick lips parting slightly as she rubbed herself against it.  
  
Keeping her eyes off Xavathra’s face, Raene relaxed her thighs and sank lower.  
  
The head of his member slipped inside, stretching her opening with a pleasurable ache, and she gasped aloud. At once, the satyr’s hands on her hips tightened, holding her in place.  
Raene mewled in surprise and frustration and thrust herself down once more, straining her powerful thighs, but the demon’s grip was firm.  
  
“Come oh-onn,” her voice came with an unfamiliar neediness, “just let me-”  
  
“Look at me,” Xavathras’ said, his voice deeper than usual.  
  
Reluctantly, Raene met his gaze.  
  
At once, he surged forward, claiming her mouth with his. She whimpered, eyes widening in surprise, but his long tongue slipped passed her lips, and wrapped around hers, coaxing her. Raene groaned again, her eyelids fluttering.  
  
Xavathras pulled back, leaving her gasping. Giving her no time to recover, the satyr stood from his throne, lifting the night elf easily. He spun around, dropped her roughly on the wooden chair, then pulled her forward until her hips lay at the edge of the seat.  
  
Raene’s breath caught in her throat when she felt his cock brush against her snatch once more. He grunted, finding the angle, then pushed his way inside.  
  
She wailed openly at the sensation of being filled, of being taken. The satyr’s hands gripped her thighs, holding them wide apart, lewdly splayed on the arms of the demon’s throne as he fucked her. Her swollen breasts bounced on her chest, another new sensation weaving itself into her mind.  
  
“Is this what you wanted, slut? Climbing on top of me, rubbing your dripping slit on me – all for a taste of my cock in your needy snatch?” he grunted roughly, the words harsh and fierce in her ears. “Answer!”  
  
“I – _ohh –_ I don’t – know _ahhh,”_ her words failed her as he sped up.  
  
“Don’t know?” he snarled, scoffing, “A weakling’s whining! But I’ll teach you what you are yet!”  
  
His thrusts were growing fast, frenetic, nothing like the measured pace he used when he had taken – _her._  
  
While her hips bucked up to meet Xavathras, Raene’s unfocused silver eyes swam to the side, past the satyr’s looming bulk.  
  
The blood elf was still there. Her golden eyes were fixed on the scene in front of her, a heavy dark flush creeping up her caramel cheeks.  
One of her hands was shoved down the front of her dark leather trousers.  
  
Raene moaned and looked away, unable to resist the maelstrom of dark lust the demon stirred inside her any longer. The sensations layered and build on top of one another – the feel of his body pressing against hers, his cock _stretching_ her with every thrust, the _smell_ of him, the rough wooden planks pressing against her skin, the knowledge that the paladin was watching and – and – all of it overwhelmed her.  
  
Raene felt herself twitch and contract around him, and she welcomed the bliss of mindless release. She came loudly, shamelessly, hips dancing and pressing up against him chaotically.

He held out for a few more thrusts, then hilted himself inside her and roared aloud. Raene felt the hot dark seed burst deep inside her, and the sensation drew another loud groan from her throat, and she peaked again as he continued to fill her.  
  
She did not recall getting off the throne, getting dressed or finding her sword. Yet all those things must have happened, for Raene found herself stumbling away up the path to the ruins, her blade loosely held in her hand.  
  
The night elf did remember passing the sin’dorei paladin on her way out of the clearing - and the look of secret, knowing acknowledgement that the blonde had given her.  
  
Raene shuddered, feeling the soreness and ache deep inside herself, and the slick trails of seed still seeping out down her thighs. She raised her head and moved forward.  
  
**  
“I’ve slain more of the Jadefire – a dozen or so, down in the southern ruins,” Raene said.  
  
“That’s – that’s great,” Eridan smiled and reached into her pack, digging around, “I’m afraid the Emerald Circle’s resources are not boundless, but here, just a little something for your trouble.”  
  
The coin purse she handed to Raene was light, but the warrior paid that little mind. Her attention was focused on Eridan.  
  
The druid was looking better than she had in days – more focused, energetic. _Perhaps whatever ‘issues’ she had with Delaris were worked out?_  
  
As Eridan moved back, her blue hair shifted slightly and Raene caught a glimpse of a dark smudge just above her left collarbone. Two faint marks, reminiscent of inverted arrowheads, each no larger than a thumbnail, were scrawled there.  
  
***  
Modren frowned, looking over the armor she dumped on top of his work bench. The dwarf tapped at the metal a few times with a small hammer, then looked up at her.  
  
“It’s good work here, lass,” he grunted, “but if you’re set on getting rid of it…”  
  
“It doesn’t fit anymore,” Raene huffed impatiently, tapping her foot. The heat of the workshop was getting to her. “And if I’m going to get it refitted, I might as well get a new set.”  
  
“But you’re asking for fine custom work, lass – won’t be cheap. There’s materials to consider, my time, plus,” the dwarfs eyes strayed to her chest, “you’d need to get me measurements.”  
  
Raene arched her back, pushing her breasts out subtly. They swayed lightly in underneath her thin crop top. The dwarf’s eyes followed obediently.  
  
The night elf smirked, pleased with the effect. _Perhaps there’s a way to kill two birds with one stone._  
  
“Modren,” she spoke brightly, “how about a discount?”  
  
The dwarf frowned. “A discount? You know me better than that! I’ve done good work for you and your whole guild, and-”  
  
Raene hooked her delicate fingers around the edge of her top and pulled down. Her left breast spilled into view, plump and rounded. The dwarf’s protests died away with a choked gasp.  
  
Raene tweaked the nipple with her fingers. The gasp turned into a groan.  
  
“What if I let you take the measurements personally, hmm?” she husked, slinking to her knees.  
  
***  
“You’re doing something to me,” Raene whined breathlessly.  
  
She bounced lightly in the satyr’s lap as he sat in the grass with his back against the edge of the moonwell. Sweat beaded on her smooth lavender skin, reflecting the green glow of the corrupted font, giving her body a fel shine.  
  
This time, the fight had been…Raene barely remembered it. He had cast some new spell, but she had been ready and dodged, rushing in, then…did it matter? Her hips rolled smoothly, his dark fur tickling her sensitive thighs.  
  
Xavathras chuckled, a deep rumbling sound.  
  
“I’m glad you noticed,” he rasped, thrusting his hips upward slightly, bucking her.  
  
“Noooh,” Raene moaned, shaking her head, “I mean – oh – oh, _fuck –_ I mean look – ah!”  
  
The night elf brought her hands up, cupping her breasts as if presenting them to the satyr. They had grown again, she was certain, too large for her to cover with her hand now. The supple orbs still rode high on her chest, almost unnaturally firm. She had taken to wearing briefer and brighter tops when not in armor, making a sport of how many eyes she could catching drifting to her new cleavage. And the sensitivity…  
  
Raene let out a gasping moan when Xavathras pulled her hand away and ran his fingers along the swell of her chest, then yelped cutely when her pinched her nipple.  
  
“I might _– oh, yes!_ – I might have to have my armor remade again,” she pouted, riding him faster now, her pleasure rising, “I can’t just blow the smith again, he’d – _oh, harder, harder!_ ”  
  
The new set of fitted scales that Modren had lovingly crafted for her glimmered darkly in the grass behind her.  
  
“What a resourceful little slut you are, whoring yourself out for steel. You’ll figure something out, I’m sure,” Xavathras grinned, his fangs glinting, “Now, make me cum, slut.”  
  
Raene wailed, her long ears burning in humiliation, and hasted to obey.  
  
***  
Raene startled awake, half rising from her bedroll, hand already reaching for her sword. The flap of the tent Eridan had set aside for her was open. Beyond, the Emerald Circle camp was gloomy and quiet.  
  
A dark shape stood at the threshold, outlined dimly by the moonlight streaming within.  
  
Raene’s bleary eyes strained then focused, her night vision helping her pick out the details. Long, light-colored hair. Golden eyes.  
  
The night elf swallowed, then slowly drew her hand back from her blade’s hilt.  
  
The paladin stepped inside. She was wrapped in a long cloak, but from the way she moved Raene could tell the sin’dorei was not wearing armor.  
  
“You let him fuck you,” the Thalassian accent only made the words sound more vulgar. “Why?”  
  
Raene’s swallowed nervously.  
  
“Because…because I wanted us to be even,” she spoke haltingly.  
  
The blood elf waited in silence.  
  
“And because it felt…felt -” Raene could not find the words.  
  
There was a soft sigh from the paladin, and the cloak she wore fell to the ground with a soft whisper of fabric.  
  
Beneath, sin’dorei was naked. Her body was lithe, beautiful and well muscled, the body of a trained warrior. Her breasts, rounded and perky, swelled forward invitingly from her chest.  
  
“Yes,” she murmured, “that’s why I let him fuck me too.”  
  
The paladin swayed forward, and dropped to her knees, crawling over Raene’s body. She threw back the night elf’s covers and dipped her head low. Her hands, warm to the touch, found Raene’s thighs and pushed them apart.  
  
“Wait, wait, I don’t know – I,” Raene panted, her mind reeling.  
  
The golden eyes flickered up to meet her gaze.  
  
“My name is Kinara,” the paladin whispered, then leaned down and licked.  
  
“Raeeene- _oh!_ ,” the night elf groaned in response, and surrendered.  
  
At length, Kinara’s slick tongue withdrew, Raene’s thighs already trembling. The night elf lifted up her head with a struggle, her neck feeling weak and rubbery. The paladin was staring back at her. Her lips and chin shone wetly.  
  
“I can still taste him on you,” Kinara murmured, voice thick.  
  
Raene whined in lust and spread her thighs wider. After a while, she bit down on her pillow to stifle her cries.  
  
Later, when Raene was laying sprawled out on her matted sheets, too weak to do much more than whimper, Kinara crawled up the night elf’s body until she straddled her neck with her thighs. She settled on Raene’s chest and reached down to spread herself.  
  
Raene looked at the offering, a delicate wet slit, glistening with arousal. _I…I haven’t done this_. _I don’t know -_  
  
“I just came from the moonwell,” Kinara’s lilting voice came from above.  
  
Raene groaned and licked her lips. Kinara slid her hips forward.


	3. Chapter 3

Raene leaned back against the tree trunk, sprawling her long legs in front of her. Her latest visit to Xavathras’ moonwell had been…satisfactory. She stretched, luxuriating in the sweet ache.

Off in the distance, Delaris was out in front of her tent, speaking with a mail-clad dwarf and a dour-faced gnome wrapped in fine robes. Archaeologists, by the look of their gear.

Raene relaxed when she saw that the arcanist sent them on their way without a claw talisman. That would have complicated things.

A flicker of movement from drew her eyes away.

A figure was moving furtively through the undergrowth, away from the camp. Raene caught a brief flash of blue hair, recognizing it at once.

_Eridan, sneaking off?_

Raene blinked and turned back, then started.

Across the distance, Delaris was looking straight at her. After a long pause, without a word or gesture, the stately arcanist turned away and walked inside her tent.

***

“Look, are you two going to be much longer?”

Kinara didn’t reply, though Raene did not blame the blood elf.

The paladin’s hands were braced on the brim of the corrupted moonwell. She was bent over at the waist, her head hanging loosely between her arms, the tall ears peeking up above her shoulders. The blonde’s body rocked in time with Xavathras’s powerful thrusts, her plump, rounded breasts swaying beneath her. Her arms strained, pushing her slim body back against the satyr. The demon’s hands held the paladin’s firm ass in a tight grip, the fingers dimpling the smooth caramel skin.

Kinara’s new heeled boots made the height difference more manageable, Raene noticed. Other elements of the blood elf’s new armor lay scattered on the ground nearby. They were very small. Some included netting.

“Are you that impatient for your turn, kaldorei, that even your practiced fingers will not serve to distract you?” Xavathras rumbled without slowing his pace.

“I…,” Raene looked away, her cheeks burning, “we should fight. Soon. Now.”

“You are not here to fight,” Xavathras said.

The night elf did not reply.

The satyr gave Kinara’s ass a sharp slap, then leaned back slightly and slid his cock out from her dripping pussy. The paladin’s knees trembled. She muttered a Thalassian curse but held her position.

Xavathras let his cock slap wetly down on the blonde’s arched back, drawing another shuddering groan from her.

Raene’s eyes widened at the sight, her breath speeding up. As ever, she was amazed that the diminutive, slender blood elf took the satyr’s entire length so easily, with such obvious delight.

“Drop that useless blade,” Xavathras’ intensely glowing eyes bored into Raene’s, “and come here.”

She hesitated only briefly.

Her sword clattered to the stones at her feet, and she stepped up next to the satyr with a soft sigh. Unbidden, she reached out and wrapped her shaking fingers around his slick cock, stroking it lightly. She could feel Kinara writhing beneath, wanting. Raene gently teased the satyr’s shaft, rubbing her fingertips along the dark veins bulging underneath the pale skin.

The satyr’s hand wrapped around her braid, pulling her head back as he leaned down. His lips found hers, and his tongue slid into her panting mouth. She welcomed it with eager licks, coaxing it deeper, then sucking on it wetly.

Xavathras indulged her for a moment, then pulled back, making her groan in disappointment.

“Put your lips to better use,” he grunted, “like the baseborn whore you are.”

Raene let out a mortified moan, feeling the shame leak down her thighs.

She leaned down, pressing her cheek against Kinara’s arched back, then opened her lips wide. Her hand continued to stroke the satyr’s shaft as she tongue-worshipped his cock, tasting the mixture of his and Kinara’s sex.

Beneath her, the paladin whined and began impatiently bucking her hips up, rubbing her ass against the underside of the satyr’s rod. Raene frowned, fighting to keep her lips locked around her prize.

“Enough,” Xavathras rumbled from above her, and she whined.

Releasing him, Raene stood, panting hard now, eyes glazing over as she stared up at the horned demon.

“Guide me back inside her, then undress and bend over next to this sin’dorei slut.”

Raene shivered and looked down at Kinara writhing backside. Even after all this madness, even though the blood elf was Horde, this still felt like a betrayal.

“Raene,” Kinara’s voice trembled, “Raene…please…”

Raene’s core thrummed with a depraved lust. With shaking hands, she brought the demon’s cock to Kinara’s soaked slit. She gently guided the head inside, then stroked her fingers along the shaft. Xavathras grunted dismissively and pushed forward.

Raene stepped away and began to hurriedly strip her own armor, Kinara’s wanton, orgasmic cries filling her ears.

By the time Raene took her place beside the paladin, Kinara was reduced to a writhing, babbling shell. Her gaze briefly met Raene’s. The glow in her eyes seemed dimmer, and the gold was tinged with a sickly green.

 _Just a reflection from the waters,_ Raene thought, _just a reflection._

Xavathras pulled himself back from the paladin, and Kinara shuddered and sank down to her knees slowly. Her cheek pressed against the stone of the well, lips mouthing a string of Thallassian, too garbled for Raene to pick up. The paladin’s dimmed eyes fluttered closed.

The night elf looked away, and waited for her turn, the anticipation fluttering in her belly.

The moonwell’s trained waters lapped at the stone of the rim, inches from her fingers. This close, she could sense the corruption churning within the oily green waters as a physical force. Eddies and small whirlpools danced in the liquid, endlessly forming and disappearing in chaos. A fine wet mist hovered above the surface, tickling at Raene’s nostrils. 

She felt a hand brush against her thigh, and drew a shaky breath, spreading her legs wider.

The satyr’s hand gripped her tightly, and his cock brushed against her entrance.

“Tell me what you are,” his voice came from behind her.

Raene’s whimpered, a desperate, needy sound. They had played this game before. She knew what he liked to hear. A small part of her still hoped that he did not know how much she got off on saying it. A larger part reveled in it.

“Noo-ooh,” she groaned, pressing her hips back vainly, “just…just _fuck_ me already, I won’t…”

His hand smacked against her ass, stinging.

“Tell me,” he growled, “or I fuck the sin’dorei in front of you again, and make you clean her. Like last time.”

The memory made Raene whine again. The satyr’s rod pressed against her once more, and she’d decided that she had teased herself enough.

“I’m a satyr slut,” she moaned shakily, her voice rising in lust filled shame, “I’m a just a baseborn…baseborn demon cock-sleeve! Please…I…I _need_ it! Fuck your little kaldorei who--oore!”

He slid into her easily, her wet snatch eagerly accepting his length. The satyr’s fingers gripped her lithe flank, and Raene’s hips rolled back, driving him deeper inside her.

“This is what you came here for, isn’t it?” his thrusts were deep, powerful.

“Yea—ahs! _Oh, gods –_ Yes!” Raene squealed loudly, her words broken by breathy gasps.

Xavathras’ slowed his pace.

“I do so enjoy it when you commoners finally, truly learn your place,” the satyr said, casually reaching down to grope at her swaying breasts.

Raene arched her back and kept bouncing her ass back against him, her peak building.

“Do you know, this reminds me of days long gone – I had quite a little harem built up in the days of the war. _The_ war, not this pitiful squabble.”

Raene did not reply, her head dipping lower just as Kinara’s did before, her long ears swaying above her shoulders with every thrust.

“Nothing so grand as the princes and generals, or the Queen’s own stable, of course,” Xavathras continued, “but still, respectable for one of my station. I wonder what happened to them in these years since,” the demon chuckled, “I wonder if you’ve met some of them. Illaria Shadowmoon? Narys Starcaller? No? Cala Mistheart?”

“Cala… _hng!_ ” Raene grunted desperately, “Lieutenant… _uhh, fuck…_ Darnassus City Guard... _oh!_ ”

Xavarthas roared with laughter, the vile sound echoing around the dark clearing.

“Truly?” he spoke, gathering himself and resuming his thrusts, “Truly? Oh, that is too rich. I wonder if she remembers me?” he mused, “I would hope so, after all the things we did together. She was a little firecracker, that one. I’d bet half her soldiers are used to the taste of her cunt. Used to love helping me break in the new girls. She’d wind them up so high, they’d come crawling to me, begging me to take them. Just like you.”

Raene moaned in humiliation, her eyes rolling back. Her fingers clutched at the stone rim of the well, shaking desperately.

“Do you know what she liked best? Here, let me show you,” Xavathras leaned down over her, rasping in her ear.

He backed off, sliding out of her with a lewd, slick sound. She shuddered and stay still, knees trembling lightly.

A moment later, she felt his hard length pressing against her ass.

Raene’s eyes flew open.

“You’re tight,” he grunted casually, still pressing against her puckered rear entrance, “but we have plenty of lubrication.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, not understanding.

“In front of you,” the satyr nodded his horned head, by way of explanation.

Raene turned back, confusion crinkling her brows, then she gasped in realization.

 _No! That’s…that’s…_ the magnitude of the sacrilege the demon was proposing sent her mind reeling.

In front of her, the corrupted moonwell roiled.

 _The sacred waters, Elune’s gift, tainted…to use that…to profane that…_ Raene shivered, her clit twitching treacherously at the thought, _only the lowest, most vile harlot would…even consider…_ She swallowed nervously, feeling herself growing wetter.

Slowly, her hand reached out and sank beneath the surface of the green pool. The well accepted her fingers without a sound, the thick, oily waters sliding against her lavender skin.

She cupped her hand and withdrew it. The viscous liquid slid between her fingers, streaming back into the pool in long strands.

Her breath caught, her blood pounding in her ears.

Swiftly, before she could reconsider, she arched her back, and brought her hand around behind her, the green sludge leaking down her wrist.

She grasped the demon’s pale cock and stared as her fingers spread the corrupted water on the shaft, covering it with a slick layer.

“Get it inside yourself,” Xavathras commanded, his voice thick with lust. The demon was enjoying this blasphemy more than he had let on, Raene realized.

Obediently, she brought her still-wet fingers to her ass, teasing at the tight rosebud. Her mouth opened with a soft sigh as her digits easily slipped inside.

Xavathras’ hand gripped her wrist and pulled it away, tossing it aside carelessly. Raene brought it back to the moonwell’s rim, bracing herself and pushing out her upturned lilac ass.

The satyr’s cock pressed against her entrance again, stretching the tight ring of flesh slightly. He paused, as if waiting.

“Do it!” Raene hissed, the depravity rushing through her, “do it, fuck my ass, my slutt-ahhh!”

He pressed forward, hard. Her flesh resisted him for a moment, then yielded, molding itself around the intruder.

_So…so full…I’m … such…such a…_

Raene could not finish the thought, wailing her perverse pleasure aloud as the demon continued to claim her.

Her arms began to lose strength, and she slowly lowered her torso down onto the rim of the well, folding her forearms beneath her. Her tight nipples pressed into the hard stone. Her long white braid spilled over her shoulder, falling over the edge of well, the tips of the hair brushing against the tainted waters. She ignored it.

Beside her, Kinara stirred at last. Raene savored the shocked little moaning gasp the paladin gave when she saw what the satyr was doing. What Raene was doing.

 _She’ll be next…_ Raene thought deliriously, _she’ll be next, and I’ll help her…I’ll help make her into such a good little demon ass-whore…just..just like…_

Raene cried aloud, cumming around the satyr’s shaft.

***

Eridan was speaking with a young draenei, a mage by the look of her modest robes. The druid handed the adventurer a small, clinking pouch. The mage walked off with a nod, and Eridan turned to Raene.

“Hey there,” she smiled brightly, giving the warrior a small friendly wave.

“Eridan, I…,” Raene paused, swallowing nervously, her eyes flickering downwards.

The movement had shifted Eridan’s blouse slightly. There were more of the faint marks on her now, running from the nape of her neck down past the swell of her left breast. At least six that Raene could see.

She looked back up at the druid. Eridan was smiling at her, eyes glinting.

Slowly, the druid’s hand slid up her flank, and her fingers gripped the fabric of her blouse. Raene stared openly now, mouth suddenly dry.

Eridan gently tugged the material aside, pulling the shirt’s collar open. There were five more marks on the right side, Raene saw, curling around down the curve of the druid’s breast towards the dark hint of her areola peeking above the fabric.

Raene licked her lips, a quiet whine slipping from her throat.

Eridan calmly waited a moment, letting Raene look, then moved the fabric back in place, covering herself.

With a teasing smile, she turned and walked away silently, her hips swaying beneath her robe.

Towards the tent of Arcanist Delaris.

***

“This is what you want me to make?” Modren’s voice was incredulous.

Raene shrugged, then popped her lips from the smith’s cock, and looked up at him. They lay together on the bed Modren had tucked away in the rear of his workshop. It made things easier, given their height difference.

She stroked him in one hand, keeping him hard.

“What’s the big deal?”

“Big deal? Lass, your guild will have your hide. By the Light, forget the guild, the guards will have your hide! It’s…it’s indecent!”

Raene flicked her tongue against his broad cockhead, making the dwarf groan.

“You let me worry about the guild,” she chuckled lightly.

Tallace, the Guild Master, had agreed by the time she wrapped her fingers around his modest prick. She had been happy to find out that his worgen form had been better endowed.

Battlelord Almara, the draenei that led the guild’s warriors, took longer to come around. The practice with Kinara came in handy. Raene still remembered how sweetly she had squealed while the night elf’s tongue was buried in her snatch.

“Anything else?” she cooed, teasing him lightly.

“Expensive,” he grunted, his voice thick. His eyes flitted down to Rane’s face. “A quick suck won’t restock my materials.”

Raene smiled. Moving gracefully, she rose and straddled the dwarf, sitting upright on his gut. She rose slightly, and her hand found his cock again, rubbing it against her wet slit. The dwarf stiffened in anticipation.

Raene shifted her hips. The dwarf’s slick head pressed against her ass. She heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Deal?” she cocked an eyebrow.

“Deal,” Modren gasped out quickly.

Raene pressed her hips down.


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you like it?” Raene purred, “I wore it just for you.”

The little lie sent a naughty flutter through her belly. Modren’s work was for her own pleasure as well. The hungry stares it drew had her wet before she had exited the city.

The flight master’s eyes had bulged as he insisted that he needed to give her a thorough, private search before he could authorize her to leave. Thankfully, her new outfit had made it easy to wrap her supple tits around his cock. The authorization was soon splattered over her impressive cleavage.

After mounting the hippogriph, Raene discovered to her delight that her new skirt allowed the saddle to rub her in _just_ the right way. She barely remembered the long flight to the Felwood.

Now Raene stood in front of Xavathras’ throne, her hips swaying lightly. The night elf held her sword loosely in her left hand at her side, its sharp point twisting in the rotted grass. She paid it no mind.

Xavathras leaned forward in his seat, his green eyes hungrily roving over her body. Raene giggled and arched her back, displaying her new attire, pleased by the reaction.

She wore an open-front shoulder shrug, with long tight sleeves. The green mesh of the flimsy-looking garment contrasted starkly with the smooth lilac skin beneath. Modren had worked the thorium so finely that the metal felt light and soft as silk. It left her chest exposed, allowing a clear view of her perfect, rounded breasts straining against a brief mithril bikini top. The cups were too small to contain her expansive bust, just as she had asked.

Raene brushed her free hand up her bare flank and tugged on the thin gold chain holding her tiny top together, teasing the satyr. Her fingers slipped to her breast, and she slid one of the silvery bikini cups aside, flashing the demon a coy glimpse before letting the material slip back into place.

Xavathras grunted, an eager choked sound.

Raene sent her hand lower, past her bare abdomen to the low waist of her short white skirt. A pair of thin leather bands rose from underneath the garment, arching high over her hips. The nigh elf toyed with one of the straps, pouting at the satyr invitingly. Then she spun around, her skirt flouncing up to reveal a brief glimpse of her mithril mesh thong.

Raene planted her sword in the ground in front of her, and leaned over it, thrusting her ass back toward the satyr’s throne. After a moment, she wriggled her hips from side to side. Just to make sure.

She heard Xavathras rise, his heavy hooved steps approaching her.

As she waited for him, her eyes slid down to her legs. She still wasn’t sure about the boots.

They had been Modren’s idea. The dwarf had been so keen on it that he went so far as to trade a favor with one of his friends, a leatherworker. Raene had been skeptical, especially when she saw the heels, but he had convinced her to try them.

Now, thin, supple leather clung to her shapely long legs up to mid-thigh. The material glinted darkly in the dim light, the bright pink lacings standing out garishly. Raene did have to admit, the heels made her butt look fantastic, but she was still not used to the exaggerated strut they forced on her. And the balance…

Xavarthas hungry touch against her soft skin interrupted her thoughts. She groaned and pushed back into the satyr’s hands impatiently.

“You’re learning your place well, slut,” he grunted into her ear, the hot breath washing over her tender skin.

His furred arms wrapped around her, and his hands roved over her body, squeezing and groping at her sensitive skin in a lust-filled frenzy.

Giggling again, Raene tightened her grip on her sword’s hilt, using the additional leverage to push her hips back against him harder. His fur tickled against her skin.

The night elf felt the growing length of his cock slip between her thighs and moaned in anticipation. One of her hands fell from the sword and slid down to her crotch.

“Shouldn’t - _ah, not so hard – ah –_ shouldn’t we fight?” Raene panted hotly. Her fingers stroked along his length, then pressed the cock up against her thong. She ground herself down on him.

The satyr grunted and spanked her ass, hard, the sting of the blow warming the flesh. Raene gasped in mock outrage.

“There,” Xavathras rumbled, “we have fought.”

Raene whined an eager assent and waited for the demon to claim his prize.

***

The heels had been a good idea, Raene decided, as she stumbled through the darkened ruins of Constellas.

Sure, balancing on them was still difficult. But the added height of her hips changed the angle _deliciously_ when Xavathras fucked her. The satyr had seemed to enjoy it as well.

Modren deserved another personal “thank you” for such initiative, Raene mused. Maybe his leatherworker friend as well. Maybe she could save time and take care of both at once…

A shadow moving in the gloom brought her wandering thoughts back to the road in front of her.

A tall horned figure loomed ahead, weaving in between broken pedestals and columns. It crossed her path, then disappeared out sight, moving deeper into the ancient city.

_A satyr._

Raene hesitated. She hadn’t seen much of the Jadefire besides Xavathras during her recent visits to the ruins – they seemed to be avoiding her almost intentionally.

A second demon came into view. The creature’s horned head turned toward Raene, fel eyes glinting in the darkness. With a short snort, the satyr turned away, and trudged after the first.

Raene wavered uncertainly, then followed, her curiosity aroused.

It did not take her long to find what she was seeking.

There were four of them. The satyrs were so oblivious to their surroundings that even Raene’s approach, made all the clumsier by her new footwear, went unnoticed.

The creatures stood in a ragged semi-circle, their attention directed inward.

At Eridan.

The petite night elf knelt on the grass, her purple lips sliding wetly around a satyr’s cock. The druid’s hands were stroking the members of two other nearby demons. Her robes were pushed off her shoulders down to her waist, exposing her breasts and slim stomach.

Eridan’s mouth-work was fast and eager. She drove herself forward feverishly, swallowing inch after inch of the satyr’s length while her silver eyes desperately stared upward at the creatures twisted face. Drool and spittle ran in heavy strands down her chin, splattering wetly against her naked chest.

The druid popped her mouth off the cock she was servicing with a loud moan and gave its head a slick kiss. With a parting flick of her tongue, Eridan turned away. A hungry, wanting whimper came from her throat as she stretched her lips over the next satyr’s member.

From the shadows, Raene stared at the obscene spectacle.

 _I should…I should do something. Help her._ Raene licked her lips. _She’s…she’s all alone, and…_

At last, one of the fiends, a wiry, red-furred brute with ebony-dark skin, could not contain his lust. When Eridan’s lips slipped from his shaft, and she tried to move to one of his brethren, he reached down with his clawed hand. His thick fingers entwined themselves in the druid’s blue hair, holding her head in place. His other hand slid over his shaft, as he stroked himself rapidly in front of the night elf’s flushed face.

Eridan submitted at once, looking up at the satyr with wanton yearning. She opened her lips and wriggled her tongue in greedy anticipation.

“Give it to me,” the druid’s voice dripped with debased lust, “cum for your Emerald _– unngh -_ Circle suck-slut, I’ve earned it, I’ve – _oh, yes!_ ”

The first burst of the satyr’s dark cum went wide of the druid’s panting mouth, splattering across her cheek. It slid across the night elf’s prominent facial tattoos, staining the markings. The demon grunted and shifted his stance slightly, and Eridan opened her mouth wider. She managed to catch most of his seed on her tongue, gulping it down with relish as stray droplets spattered down on her violet chest.

The satyr released her and stumbled back, sated for the moment. To Raene’s mild surprise, the others waited patiently as Eridan swiped her fingers across her cheeks, licking them clean. Once done, she raised herself up on her knees, cupping her breasts in her hands. The druid batted her eyelashes up at the dark-skinned demon.

The satyr grunted and reached out his hand again. One thick finger extended to press against the flesh of the druid’s right breast.

Eridan’s eyes fluttered closed and she stilled in anticipation.

A green spark leapt from the demon’s claw, burrowing into the night elf’s skin. The satyr’s hand dropped away.

A new jagged V-shaped mark stood out darkly on Eridan’s breast.

 _Horns,_ Raene shivered at the perverse realization, _not arrowheads. Jadefire horns._

“Thank you,” the druid’s eyes slid open, and she smiled invitingly up at the satyr, “please, stay and use my mouth again once you’re ready.”

 _Yes,_ Raene thought, _I should intervene…help her._

*** _Now_

Raene mewled in depraved pleasure, rolling her shoulder blades back against the broad chest of the dark-skinned satyr who held her in the air in front of him. The demon supported her weight easily, holding one of her legs in each hand as he slowly fucked her well-trained ass. Her hands were arched above her head, one buried in the demon’s thick furry mane, the other wrapping around one of the satyr’s horns.

Eridan knelt in the grass in front of her, servicing a lanky green-skinned satyr. One of the demon’s hands guided the druid’s head along his length. The other was casually groping and pawing at Raene’s cum-stained bare breasts. She had made sure to pull her bikini top aside early on – no sense in having it torn.

The other two satyrs crowded around Eridan, impatiently pressing forward, rubbing their cocks over the night elf’s seed-drenched cheeks. She kept them placated with her hands, but they seemed less inclined to wait than before.

Eridan couldn’t say much, occupied as she was. However, her eyes spoke volumes, flashing jealous glances toward Raene.

The green-skin grunted then pulled himself away from the druid’s mouth, turning toward Raene’s spread thighs.

“No! Wait, I…” Eridan gasped out anxiously, her eyes darting between the demon and the warrior.

“You’ll have my seed and my mark,” the satyr rumbled dismissively, “once you lick it from this slut’s snatch. It’s been too long since I’ve had a kaldorei whore stretched around my cock.”

Eridan was about to speak again, but one of the other satyrs reached down and guided her head toward his own jutting cock. Before long, her head was bobbing forward hungrily once more, moans and drool leaking past her lips.

The green-skinned demon leaned in toward Raene, his hand squeezing down on her breast.

“How about it, night elf? Have you ever had two at once?” he grunted, his fetid breath washing over her flushed, seed-stained face.

“Noo - _ahh!_ – noo,” Raene shook her head, her voice breaking in rhythm with the thrusts of the satyr fucking her ass. She managed a fetching smile at the green-skin. “I can’t wait to – _nnh -_ feel you in me.”

His green eyes flamed with a crazed fel lust, and Rane felt the head of his cock slide against her wet slit. She groaned and laid her head back against the chest of the satyr behind her, twitching in anticipation.

*** _20 minutes earlier_

When the night elf warrior had strutted out of the darkness to confront the group, the satyrs quickly got over their initial surprise. Before she had a chance to speak, two of them were already closing in on her. Behind them, Eridan’s startled cry was swallowed by the shadows of the ruins.

The satyrs had ignored Raene’s sword, which she had not bothered to draw. One of them simply pulled the weapon from her loose grip, and carelessly tossed it into the shadows. She could still make out the glint of its scabbard in the darkness.

The other demon had wrapped one of his arms around her hips, pulling her close against him. His fingers found their way underneath her brief skirt, and soon Raene was eagerly grinding against his hand while sucking the cursed monster’s tongue down her obliging throat.

The thought that the satyrs _knew_ – that they knew what an easy satyr slut she had become – made her quiver. She had briefly wondered whether Xavathras had been bragging about his kaldorei fuck-toy, or if the demons could simply sense the fel lusts he had awakened inside her.

The satyr that had disarmed her returned to her side, his clawed hands pawing at her chest while she mewled wantonly into the foul kiss of his kin. Raene reached up and roughly tugged her mithril bikini aside, freeing her rounded breasts from the meager confinement of the brief garment. The monster grunted, his harsh fingers quickly finding her nipple.

The night elf writhed between the demons as their hands roamed over her lavender skin. The satyrs’ heavy, sordid scent and the thick taste of their tongues flooded her senses. A finger found her rosebud beneath her brief skirt, joining the digit already buried in her dripping snatch. She hissed in pleasure. Her own hands sought out the satyr’s hard shafts, fingers greedily wrapping around the stiff, hot flesh.

The demons’ touch was callous and brutish, but Raene submitted to it eagerly, thrilling at her own depravity. Her defilement at Xavathras’ hands was one thing – but these creatures were so much… _less_ than him. So much less than _her_. She could have sent them all running with a few strikes of her blade. Instead, Raene moaned hungrily and shifted her stance, making it easier for the demon’s fingers to stroke her.

She was just as compliant when they nudged her forward, then pushed her down to her knees.

In front of Eridan.

“Raene, I…” the druid’s voice shook tightly, then faltered. She stared wide-eyed at the warrior, lips working soundlessly for a few moments. Her delicate hands kept stroking at the cocks of the two satyrs that had remained with her, moving as if with a will of their own. One of them wouldn’t last much longer, Raene judged, based on the way his shaft was twitching in Eridan’s grip. Raene licked her lips.

Leaning forward, she brought her face close to Eridan’s. The druid’s eyes opened wider, and Raene relished the lustful, wanting whine she heard before she sealed her plush lips against the woman’s mouth. The kiss lingered, as Raene’s tongue coiled around Eridan’s, seeking out the traces of foul demon seed still staining it.

Finally, she pulled back, allowing Eridan to catch a shuddering breath.

“We’ll speak after,” Raene smiled at the druid, then turned her head. Her tongue flicked out at the cockhead of the satyr Eridan was stroking, earning an appreciative groan from the demon. “For now, allow me to aid the Emerald Circle as best I can.”

*** _Now_

Raene panted raggedly, spasming weakly around the pair of demon shafts buried within her. Her thighs were wrapped around the waist of the green-skinned satyr as he continued to fuck her. The demon’s hands held her firm hips tightly, supporting her frame against his torso while his ebony kin drove himself into the night elf’s ass.

The night elf’s limp arms were loosely draped around the green-skin’s neck, all strength drained from her limbs. The satyr was grunting into her ear, his words harsh and degrading, but Raene barely registered them now, her mind awash in twisted ecstasy. She rested her head on the demon’s broad shoulder, staring out at the shadows with lust-glazed eyes.

A few feet away, Eridan was presenting her seed-slick breasts to one of the other nameless satyrs, trembling in pleasure as he added his mark to the druid’s skin.

And further out in the dark ruins, more horned figures were drawing closer.


End file.
